


The Human Side

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Denial, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family, Feelings, Guilt, Kidnapping, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Organized Crime, Rescue, Secrets, Slash, Slow Build, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: When Kasuka goes missing, Shizuo is forced to go to a certain informant for help.





	The Human Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeamAlphaQ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/gifts).



> For the lovely TeamAlphaQ - sorry for the delay!

Izaya’s front door rattles once, twice, in the darkness. There’s a pause, then it starts up again. Shizuo sits up with interest. He hadn’t counted on someone breaking in. He waits as the rattling continues, until Izaya himself falls through the door.

He shoves it closed with his body and leans back, eyes closed, throat exposed. Shizuo wonders if he is drunk. A pair of headphones cover the informant’s ears, and a grocery bag dangles off his slim wrist. He shoves his keys back in his pocket and lets the bag drop to the floor. Shrugs out of his jacket and allows that to drop with it, followed by the headphones. Then he pushes himself off the door, crosses his arms and rakes his shirt off over his head.

Shizuo watches this new side of Izaya with detached interest, one that dumps his things on the floor when he’s tired like everyone else. It is the most human Shizuo has ever seen him.

Their eyes finally meet, and Izaya stumbles and gives a little yelp of shock.

“Shizuo!” He starts laughing like they’re old friends, hand over his heart. “You scared me half to death! What are you doing here?”

He sounds almost relieved. Perhaps worse people have broken in in the past. He puts his shirt back on while he waits for an answer.

“Well?” He folds his arms once his skin is covered, leaning against the unit, a familiar smirk forming on his face. He doesn’t seem at all alarmed that Shizuo broke in.

“You know why.”

“I actually really, really don’t.”

Shizuo had expected such denial, but it still pisses him off.

“You’ve got a fucking nerve.”

Izaya’s smirk wavers.

“O-K,” he says, straightening. “I always thought one day you’d finish me off, but I never thought it would be for something I didn’t do.”

Shizuo just glares at him.

“I don’t know what this is about, protozoan. Tell me.”

“Kasuka’s missing.”

He watches Izaya’s face very carefully. He knows the flea would have rehearsed this hundreds of times, but he is still very convincing.

 “I don’t know anything about that,” Izaya says, holding Shizuo's gaze. “Honestly.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I mean it.” He shrugs. “I hate to break it to you Shizu-Chan, but Kasuka’s a celebrity. It makes him rather vulnerable to this sort of thing.”

“He’s never had any trouble before.”

“There’s always a first time. And anyway,” His eyes gleam. “How do you know he’s in trouble? If he’s only missing, maybe he just needed some space. Maybe he got sick of you.”

“He wouldn’t let people worry about him like this.”

“Why is it not on the news?” Izaya whips out his phone like it’s a hot piece of gossip. “Have I been under a rock all day?”

“The police won’t release anything yet while they’re still investigating.” He doesn’t tell Izaya that they’re leaning towards his own speculation, that Kasuka is missing of his own accord. Which is just bullshit. Shizuo knows his brother, and he wouldn’t do this. “But they’re just wasting time, aren’t they, when they could just come here and talk to you.”

Izaya stops going through his phone to glare at him.

“I didn’t do anything, Shizuo. You don't know what Kasuka's thinking. If the pressure’s been getting to him- “

“I know,” Shizuo snaps, cutting him off before he can say it. “I know all the possibilities. But that’s not the most obvious explanation.”

Izaya shakes his head.

“Well, I don’t know anything about this,” he repeats. “I mean it.”

Shizuo doesn't say anything for a moment. He’d expected this, but he’d hoped to get at least an inkling of whether Izaya’s guilty or not. On the one hand, Izaya is a very good liar. On the other, Shizuo can’t afford to be biased, can’t afford to be wrong and waste more time.

Izaya is still over by the counter, watching him as if he may attack at any moment. Shizuo stays where he is on the couch. He feels as if he can just stay seated, he can keep from destroying everything in the room. He lifts his eyes back to Izaya’s.  

“If you really don’t have anything to do with it, I want you to help.”

Izaya stares at him like he’s speaking another language.

“Help? How exactly? I’m an informant, not Sherlock Holmes.”

“You know people. You have sources.”

“If I had any relevant sources I’d already know about this.”

“You can find out.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“It better be.”

Izaya’s eyes narrow.

“Who do you think you are, Shizuo? You think you can come in here and threaten me to you get what you want?”

“I’m not leaving until you help me.”

Instead of arguing, Izaya takes a deep breath. His fingers twitch like he wants to do something else.

“Shizuo. I can understand you’re upset. I get where you’re coming from. But if there’s already an investigation underway, the police are going to turn up with something far more quickly than I ever could. You just need to sit tight and-”

“They won’t,” Shizuo snaps. “They’re taking too long as it is. They’ve come up with nothing in two days. You know what the police are like here, they’re fucking useless. It’s all about who you know. And I know _you_ can find whatever information you want as fast as you want.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Izaya says quietly. “Informing is mostly buying and selling. It’s not what you think.”

“Bullshit. If it were one of your sisters you wouldn’t have that attitude.”

“Don’t talk about my sisters.”

“I’m just saying- “

 “Shizuo,” he interrupts. “Does Celty know you’re here?”

“No.”

“What about Tom?”

“No.  Why? Planning on killing me?”

“I’m just wondering if they support this little campaign, or if they told you to do the sensible thing and sit tight, and wait for whatever the police come up with.”

Shizuo says nothing.

“Look, I’m – sorry,” Izaya says, like the word is medicine he can hardly swallow. “I can’t imagine what this must be like. But I can’t do anything.”

“You have to.” Shizuo hadn’t planned on begging, but he’s suddenly tired. Tired from not sleeping in two days, from trying to keep his parents together. “I – come on, Izaya, I’ve never asked you for anything. I wouldn’t come if I wasn’t desperate. Please. Just this once.”

“Don’t do that,” Izaya groans. “I really can’t do anything, Shizuo. I’ve got too much other work on. I don’t know anything about celebrities or the kind of circles they – “

“I can pay you whatever you want. Kasuka, my parents, have enough money.”

“It’s not about the money.”

“What is it about, then?”

“Well, like I said, the time- “

“We’ll give you enough to compensate for your other stuff.”

“-the fact that I don’t know anything about this- “

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And what if I do find him and it’s - it’s not good news?”

Shizuo swallows. Obviously he’d thought about this, they’d all been thinking it, but no-one had quite managed to say it out loud yet.

“Obviously I’m not going to blame you for anything like that.”

He doesn’t look at Izaya as he says this. He doesn’t look at Izaya for some time.

So much silence passes that he’s sure Izaya’s about to tell him to get out, when he says,

“Fine.”

Shizuo lifts his head. Izaya is already walking away, gathering his things from where they’re piled by the door and dumping them on the other end of the couch. He avoids Shizuo’s eyes as he speaks.

“I’ll try. But I’m warning you Shizuo, this is such a waste of time. I’ll be making it up as I go along.”

Shizuo says nothing, all the fight gone out of him now he’s finally _done_ something, even if it’s not the right thing.

Izaya hovers over him with the adrenalin coursing through his stomach.

“All right,” he says. “I’m going to take a shower. You can tell me everything when I’m done.”

-

The informant’s head whirls when he’s under the water. He thinks he should have pushed back a bit more – he has way too much work for way too important people to put off – but his mind is already delving into the matter. He feels bad that this has happened, but also a sick kind of interest in the mechanisms behind it. Could Kasuka be suicidal? Or have drugs/girlfriend problems? It obviously isn’t the typical kidnapping case if a ransom hadn’t yet been offered.

Part of him relishes the challenge. Another just can’t stand feeling sorry for Shizuo. And if he does somehow manage to take care of this, it will get rid of the feeling as soon as possible.

He’s tired, though. He’s had a long day, and wants more than anything to crawl into bed. He turns the water to freezing to wake himself up.

Shizuo is still sitting there when he comes back down, caved in on himself, eyes red from lack of sleep. Izaya stands there in fresh clothes, rubbing a towel through his hair

“OK,” he says, fishing around for a notepad with his free hand. “Tell me everything. And I mean everything, however personal it gets. If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to trust me.”

But Shizuo has nothing to tell him. Kasuka hadn’t shown up on set one day, and that was it. Nothing unusual, no-one suspicious in mind. He had just disappeared.

Izaya shifts uncomfortably, feeling more and more out of his depth. Perhaps he could just hire a private investigator on Shizuo’s behalf. But he has a feeling Shizuo would see this as stalling. He wants something done _now_ , literally, whether it’s the most effective course of action or not.

“I’ll get started then,” Izaya says, when he can’t think of anything else to ask him.

Shizuo doesn’t move. Izaya assumes he’s not going to let him out of his sight until this is over.

The informant gets leftovers from the fridge and takes them over to his desk. He fires up his computer, cancels all his appointments for the following day, emails Namie to tell her to take the day off but be on standby, and tries to figure out where to start.

-

Around 2 in the morning, he’s still lost in a web of information and no closer to any leads. And at so late an hour, running on coffee and nerves, his guard is also down. He feels a little sorry for Shizuo. In all the time they'd known and fought each other, nothing particularly tragic had ever happened to either of them. What would it be like if Kasuka really was dead, which is feeling like a real possibility? Shizuo would be an empty shell for the rest of his life. Izaya shakes his head to clear it. 

He takes pity on Shizuo and brings him a glass of milk. The protozoan had been shifting around in the corner of Izaya’s eye, checking his phone every five minutes, but now he had finally fallen asleep, half sitting, half lying on the couch, his face obscured by cushions. Izaya considers doing a runner, but there would be no point unless he left Tokyo all together, for good, and didn’t mind the inevitable destruction of everything he owns.

The informant stands there for a moment, watching Shizuo sleep. He is surprisingly silent, for a smoker. If this had happened when they were in school, maybe even sooner than that, Izaya would have relished the opportunity to show Shizuo’s he’s not whatever he thinks he is. I’m _not the monster in this relationship, or whatever it is_. But they’re not in school, there was too much blood under the bridge to change anyone's opinion. He just wants to get this over with.

Shizuo's hand dangles over the side of the couch, his phone on the floor where it had slipped from his fingers. Izaya bends to retrieve it, placing it on the coffee table. Then he backs away and puts the milk in the fridge, glass and all, and forces himself to keep going.  

-

It’s morning by the time he’s found something. At least, he thinks he’s found something. He’s too tired to really judge. He rubs his eyes just as the sunrise peeks through his still-open curtains, casting the room in a warm glow. He'd give anything to sleep. In the corner of his eye, one of his most important phones keeps lighting up insistently. Izaya turns it over. He can worry about that later.

He takes another icy shower and changes his clothes, trying not to look at his bed.

Shizuo is still asleep when he’s done. Izaya has to shake him to wake him up.

“I have to go out,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’m not doing a runner. But you can’t come. I need to speak to someone privately.”

“Whatever,” Shizuo mumbles, surprising him. He’d expected more resistance. “I can’t force you to help.”

“I _am_ helping, Shizuo,” Izaya says through grit teeth, irked that his sleepless night, not to mention the upcoming fury of his clients, is not acknowledged. “I’m just letting you know. Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll call if I have any news. And let me know if you hear from the police, OK?”

Shizuo is already curling in on himself and going back to sleep. Izaya sighs and takes his hand off him. He’s come this far, he may as well see it through.

-

Shizuo comes to again at some point in the afternoon. There is no sign of Izaya. When he stands up to stretch, he sees the informant’s headphones and groceries are still on the couch where he’d dumped them. Perhaps he really was taking this seriously. 

Hhe takes Izaya’s groceries and puts any fresh produce in the fridge, inspecting its contents idly: fruit, vegetables, couple of eggs, a half-eaten Russia-Sushi container, very little else. Shizuo’s own hunger pangs him. He’d barely eaten in the last two days. A glass of milk stands up incongruously next to the carton. He takes it out, has a quick battle with himself over whether it’s OK to take Izaya’s food without permission, decides it’s not, and eats anyway because he’s so hungry.

With nourishment and a good night’s sleep, he finds he can think more clearly through the claws of anxiety, and begins to doubt what he's done. What if Izaya uses the information to his advantage? What if Shizuo has inevitably made things more worse?

His phone rings.  He flinches with hope, like he does every time, but it’s just his parents. They don’t know what he’s doing, and they want him to come home.

“A friend who knows people is helping me. I know, but it can’t hurt.”

-

Shizuo’s asleep again when he recognises the irritating bleating for what it is, his phone. His _phone_. He wakes like someone’s thrown a bucket of water over him and yanks it out of his pocket.

“Hello?” he croaks.

“It’s me.”

Izaya’s voice is kind, which sinks straight into his stomach like a knife. He starts to shake, bracing himself for the worst. “I’ve found Kasuka. He's OK. They’re taking him to the hospital, but he’s going to be OK.”

“What?” Shizuo is suddenly on his feet. “What happened? Which hospital?”

“I’ll text you where you need to go, OK? We’ll talk later.”

“Wait, just tell me- “

But he’s talking to air because Izaya has already hung up.

-

Seeing Kasuka, worn and bruised but talking, coherent,  _there_ , makes him almost weightless with relief. Their parents aren’t here yet, and Shizuo is selfishly grateful for it, for the chance to hug Kasuka all to himself until he can breathe again.

“What happened to you? Are you OK?”

“Mm. My girlfriend.” Kasuka winces slightly, like talking causes him pain. “She was in with some bad people. I knew that but I didn’t know how bad.”

Shizuo only half takes this in. The reasons don’t seem so important now he knows Kasuka is all right.

“Izaya found me,” Kasuka is saying. “I have no idea how. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. He stayed with me. He held my hand and talked to me. Then the ambulance came.”

“Where is he?”

“I think he’s talking to the police.”

-

Since then, Izaya had become notoriously difficult to get hold of. Shizuo finds out more about what happened from the police, from Kasuka, but he still has no idea how Izaya went from knowing nothing to getting his brother out of an organised crime kidnapping the next day. He needs to thank Izaya. Hell, his parents want to thank Izaya.

When he doesn’t get anywhere with his phone, he decides to just go over. A familiar pair of faces greet him when he does.

“Hi Shizuo,” the twins chorus.

“Oh , hey. Is your brother home?”

“Nope,” Mairu says cheerfully. “We let ourselves in sometimes when we’re out of food. Not that he ever has anything good. You want some ice-cream? We just went to the store.”

Mairu talks very quickly.

“Uh…no thanks. Do you know when he’ll be home? I need to talk to him about something important.”

“No idea. How’s Kasuka?”

The media had finally caught up with them once Kasuka was in hospital.

“He’s much better, thanks. He’s back home now.”

He dodges their other questions, pretending to know less than he did. They make him tea as they chatter. He’s not comfortable being there, knows Izaya won’t like it, but if he doesn’t wait he’ll never get hold of him, and he doesn’t want to make the trek to Shinjuku a habit.

It gets late. He’s starting to think about calling it a day when a key finally turns in the lock.

The twins are laughing over something and don’t notice. The table is littered with paper from junk food they’d bought, their dishes piled in the sink.

Izaya is in a suit, a black suit, and his eyes are very red. It takes Shizuo a moment for the penny to drop. The twins also stop tittering and stare at him.

Izaya freezes in the doorway, taking in not only his sisters and the mess, but who they’re with. Then he steps back and slams the door behind him, hard enough to make their plates rattle.

Mairu swallows.

“Oh,” she says. They both look like they’re about to cry.

“It’s not your fault,” Shizuo says quickly. “I shouldn’t have come in.” He helps them clear up, trying to reassure them.  “Don’t worry. Just let him cool down a bit and give him a call. Tell him I’ve gone.”

They nod miserably.

Shizuo sighs once he’s alone, cursing his timing. He calls Celty to give her an update.

“I still haven’t talked to him,” he says, and tells her what happened.

 _-You should talk to Shinra,_ she suggests. _–I think they’re still close._

So that’s how the three of them end up back at Shinra’s, who, failing to see the big picture, is just pleased to have his point proved.

“I _told_ you he had a good side,” he says triumphantly. “Didn’t I keep saying all along?”

“He might _not_ have a good side,” Shizuo growls, not wanting to admit he’s right. “It’s a bit suspicious that one minute he doesn’t know anything, then he finds Kasuka the next.”

“That’s Izaya,” Shinra says, undisturbed. “He’s pretty efficient. Why do you think he gets so much work?”

Shizuo ignores this.

“And it’s a little weird how he’s avoiding me now. Why would he avoid me if he’s not guilty? Although, if someone he knows just died…” he trails off, the guilt making him wince again . “Do you know whose funeral it was? It obviously wasn’t family, because his sisters didn’t know.”

“Don’t change the subject. I think you need to accept that Izaya isn't as bad as everyone believes.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m grateful, but it doesn’t exclude all the other shit he’s done.”

“Such as?”

“Such as…well, getting me fired, for one thing.”

“Ah. Izaya never got you fired, Shizuo.”

“What?”

Celty also straightens beside him.

“He didn’t,” Shinra affirms. “He was covering for someone else who wanted you out of town.”

Shizuo shakes his head.

“I don’t believe you. Why would he do that?”

“He’s done a ton of stuff like that. How do you think he got so much work and so much money when he was barely out of school? He built a reputation so that everyone would be too scared to mess with him, and to build his credibility with the right people.”

“I don’t believe you,” Shizuo repeats. “Who would want to get me fired?”

Shinra’s mouth twists sympathetically.

“You’d be surprised.”

 Shizuo’s voice falters. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because now’s the right time,” Shinra says benignly. “Now we’re actually having a conversation about Izaya and you’re not throwing things. Because you need to be rational about it. It could get him killed if anyone finds out.”

“But how can you be sure?” Shizuo persists. “He might have been lying.”

“I’m sure, Shizuo,” Shinra says, exasperated. “Trust me.”

-

Shizuo leaves it as long as he can stand before trying Izaya’s place again. It’s somehow still the twins who answer the door.

“You guys move in or what?” he says, only half joking.

They laugh him off, the trauma from his last visit clearly forgotten. “Do you want nii-san? He’s here this time!”

They push him through the door.

Izaya is in the kitchen, where the smell of something sweet and incredible is coming from. French toast.

The informant looks as wary as he feels, which Shizuo sees as a good sign.  

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Shizuo says tactfully, aware of the twins hovering over his shoulder.

“Sure.”

Izaya takes him upstairs while his sisters are distracted by the food, to a study he hadn’t known was there.

“I just wanted – “

Izaya holds up a hand, making him pause. He sits there for a moment, head cocked, before getting up and yanking the door open, and the twins fall to a heap on the floor.

“Go _away_ ,” he snaps in disgust.

“But what are you talking about?” they whine.

“Stuff. Shizuo won’t come again if you listen in on his private conversations.”

This does the trick. Izaya waits until they’re back downstairs, munching on toast, before he sits back down, leaving the door open a crack in case they attempt to sneak back. He raises his eyebrows at Shizuo.

“I - thank you, Izaya. Thank you so much.”

“It’s OK.”

“Really, I – “

“It’s OK,” he repeats, fidgeting. “Forget it.”

Izaya’s avoiding his eyes, playing with what looks like a chess piece.

“Um, OK. And I wanted to – to ask you a bit more about what happened.”

Izaya frowns.

“I found him. Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s just that you found him so quickly- “

“And you’re complaining?”

“No, I just- “

“I found Kasuka the next day because I was up all night,” he snaps, clenching his fist around the piece. “And then I started spending money faster than I usually do. Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

“Then why did you fight me so much in the first place if it was that easy?”

“I didn’t know it would be like that. It was partly luck.”

“So why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because you’re not my favourite person in the world, believe it or not.”

Shizuo forces himself not to keep arguing, not wanting to rattle him further.

“OK. How much do I owe you?”

“Owe me?” he says, looking blank. “Oh. You don’t have to pay me. It was a one off, and it didn’t take as long as I thought.”

Shizuo stares at him.

“But you were just going on about what a headache it was.”

“The money doesn’t matter, it’s not about money. It’s…” he waves his hands, trying to think of the word.

“…reputation?”

Izaya glares at him. Shizuo realises then how tired he looks.

“I think it’s time for you to go now.”

Shizuo keeps on, unable to help himself.

“Why did you do it then, if you’re not even going to take any money for it?

“I don’t know,” he growls. “Because you would have killed me if I didn’t? Because I enjoy a challenge? Or maybe I do have some kind of moral compass after all, who knows.”

“Why are you so angry?”

“What, did you think you could just waltz through the door and we’d be friends now?”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Shizuo snaps, feeling his own temper finally snap. “I’m just trying to thank you. And if you really don’t want money I don’t want to be in any kind of debt to you. I know what you’re like.”

Izaya goes quiet for a long moment, lowering his head until his fringe masks his face.

“Nothing’s ever good enough for you, is it?” he says bitterly. “I find your fucking brother, I do it in less than 24 hours and I get into a hell of a lot of trouble for doing it, and you’re still not happy.”

“No, no, that’s not true,” Shizuo protests feebly, but he realises it is. He _wants_ to hate Izaya. He wants to justify everything he’s ever felt and done over the past 10 years. He’s suddenly ashamed.

He frowns then as Izaya’s words catch up with him. “You’re in trouble? What do you mean?”

“That’s not what I said.” Izaya starts massaging his forehead with one hand.

“Maybe I can- "

“ _No_. The best thing you can do for me right now is go away more quickly.”

Shizuo sighs in defeat, knowing when he’s beaten.

“All right.”

“Your best friends can see you out,” he says, voice laden with sarcasm, without looking up. “I have a headache.”

Shizuo gets up, and looks back at the informant from the doorway. His head is still in his hands.

“Thank you, Izaya. Seriously.”

He closes the door gently and goes downstairs.

The twins peek up eagerly when he emerges.

“Shizuo! Come have some food and tell us how Kasuka’s doing!”

“No, I’m leaving,” Shizuo says firmly. “Give your brother some peace, huh? He has a headache.”

They blink at the seriousness of his tone.

“Did you have a fight?”

“Kind of.”

Mairu sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you and nii-san didn’t always fight all the time.”

“…yeah, me too.”

The three of them reflect on this for a moment.

“Was Kasuka kidnapped, Shizuo?” Mairu tries again, as he’s about to leave. “Nii-san won’t tell us anything, but I bet he knows something, he always does. He says it’s none of our business.”

“I don’t know a lot myself. It’s Kasuka’s business,” Shizuo says vaguely. “The important thing is that he’s all right now.”

He goes to leave again, but something makes him pause.

“How is your brother?” he asks, as casually as he can. “He seems very…tense.”

“Yah, he’s pretty tense,” Mairu agrees offhandedly. “We don’t know what’s up.”

 “Have you guys been coming over a lot?”

“We’ve been coming to watch this show he hates. It’s fun.”

Shizuo thinks about this. He wouldn’t have taken any of this crap from Kasuka, even if they're close. “He’s a good sport, then.”

Kururi lifts her head.

“You just said something nice about Nii-san,” she points out.

Mairu’s eyes widen.

“Do you like Nii-san now, Shizuo?”

“Of course not.”

“You do!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he insists, but part of him wonders. Izaya had saved his brother. He hadn’t got Shizuo fired. These two facts stripped away the worst of Izaya’s personality, and what was left was someone who had helped him for nothing when he needed it most, someone who was unafraid of him, whip-smart and, well, extremely good-looking.

“It’s OK, Shizuo,” Mairu whispers confidentially, as he feels himself going red. “Lots of people like Nii-san. We’re used to it.”

“Mairu,” he says, agonised, thinking of Izaya upstairs, probably wondering why the front door hadn’t shut yet. “Both of you. Drop this, OK? I have to go.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell him,” Mairu says. “He’s so stupid about things like this.”

“I don’t like him.”

“OK,” Mairu says, in a tone that suggests she doesn’t believe a word. “That’s why you're suddenly here all the time and asking about him.”

“That’s because he did me a really big favour and I’m grateful for it.”

They both look at him with interest.

"Is it to do with Kasuka?”

“Maybe.”

Mairu's eyes go wide.

“Nii-san does a lot of favours for people,” Kururi observes.

“He does?”

“Yes, but we’re not supposed to talk about it. But I guess if he’s helped you then you already know. You can’t tell anyone. They’re secret favours.”

Shizuo absorbs this in silence.

“Maybe we can tell you _some_ of them.”

“No,” he says, although he’s dying to know. “I don’t want to find out more stuff behind his back.”

“You’re no fun, Shizuo.”

The stairs creak then, and Shizuo winces inside. He hopes Izaya hasn’t been standing there for long.

“I was just leaving,” he says.

“That’s all right, I forgot something,” Izaya says unexpectedly. He waves Shizuo back up.

The informant frowns once they’re alone again.

“Why is your face so red? What have they been saying?”

“Nothing, nothing. They were just winding me up,” he says, feeling his face flame even more, although he breathes out with relief, as this means Izaya hadn’t heard.

“OK, whatever. How did you break into my apartment?”

He’d almost forgotten that. It feels like years ago.

“I hired a guy.”

“Really?” Izaya smirks for the first time since Shizuo arrived. “I hope you didn’t pay a lot for that. You know you can teach yourself how to pick the average lock in about 15 minutes.”

“Well, it’s not a skill I plan on picking up.”

“Hm. How’s Kasuka?” he asks unexpectedly. He looks genuine, no trace of the smirk left.

“He’s good,” Shizuo says, trying to mask his surprise. “He’s back on set next week.”

The twins' laughter rings out from downstairs, doubtless wreaking havoc in Izaya’s kitchen. Shizuo’s own lips twitch with a suppressed smile.

“Man, you let them walk all over you.”

“So do you,” Izaya retorts. “You can leave if you want to. Don’t let them bully you.”

Silence falls then, not an uncomfortable one. Shizuo realises his heart is beating just a little too hard.

Izaya stands up, oblivious.

“Well, I better get back to work.”

“I thought you had a headache?”

He shrugs.

“Yeah, well, needs must.”

His sisters are picking through a fruit bowl when they come back down, looking unimpressed with its content.

“Nii-san, can we have some more toast?”

“No. Keep it down for a bit, I have work to do.”

“Can Shizuo stay and tell us about Kasuka?”

“If he wants.”

Shizuo blinks a bit, but Izaya has already gone off to his computer.

The twins look at him expectantly.

To keep them happy, and to keep them from pestering Izaya, he tells them about his brother’s latest project, what appearances he has planned following the movie. He watches Izaya out of the corner of his eye, who moves to the couch after about 20 minutes. He is rubbing his head again.

“I’m still hungry,” Mairu announces later. “Now can we have some toast, Nii-san?” They turn around when he doesn’t answer, and find their brother is asleep.

Kururi giggles, and Mairu pokes her.

“Shhh. He’s a really light sleeper.”

Shizuo feels funny looking at him.

"Aare you going to come over more now that you like him, Shizuo?"

"Mairu," he hisses, agonised. "Please. Not here."

“Let’s go out for a minute, then.”

They put on their shoes and walk him to the elevator.

Behind them, still lying on the couch, Izaya’s eyes snap open.

-

Unable to sleep, the informant twists one of his chess pieces round and round in his hand. The king. The other king stands mockingly before him on the board, where he’s unable to get too close or the game would be over. Izaya sighs and lets the piece drop, the way he'd like to drop himself, if only he could sleep for more than four hours.

He’d met with his clients earlier. They were fairly understanding if he had to pull out of things when his sisters needed something, almost respected it, but less understanding of his choosing to prioritise another job over theirs. He observes his shoddily bandaged hands dispassionately. They’d gone for his hands because they, his knives, are his best weapon. He supposes he should count himself lucky that they hadn’t done worse.

He still needs to go to Shinra. He looks at the time, wondering if Shinra would still be up. He wouldn’t, but Izaya goes anyway. He needs to talk to someone.

Shinra _is_ up, however. Shizuo and Celty are there, empty dinner plates and glasses on the table. They’ve clearly had a little party. Izaya suddenly hates them and he doesn’t know why.

He holds his hands out to Shinra helpfully.

“Can you take a look?”

He sulks as Shinra dresses the wound properly, angling his body away from Shizuo, who he feels is somehow mocking him. He and Celty are out of earshot, but Izaya’s no longer in the mood for talking.

“I feel like I can’t get away from Shizu-chan these days," he complains.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Shinra says, which does nothing for his mood. “Seriously,” Shinra persists. “Stay for a while. Have a drink.”

“No thanks.”

Shizuo is watching them out of the corner of his eye.

“Wonder what happened to him,” he mutters to Celty.

_-Have you seen him since last time?_

“Nope. Not even around Ikebukuro.” He drops his voice as they come back, Izaya’s hands in fresh wrappings. “I should take off too.”

He waits until they’re in the elevator to speak.

“I need to talk to you,” Shizuo starts, when Izaya cuts him off.

“No,” Izaya says, more aggressively than he’d intended. “I don’t care which of your damn family members are missing this time, I had nothing to do with it and I haven’t got time to help you.”

“Don't be stupid,” Shizuo snaps. “I have to talk to you about – something else.”

“Well, I can’t now,” Izaya says edgily, avoiding his eyes, as the elevator grounds. “I have to be somewhere.”

“Don’t blow me off, Izaya. It’s important.”

“Tomorrow,” he says, just to get rid of him, and hurries into the night before Shizuo can press him.

He doesn’t slow until he’s back in the relative safety of Shinjuku, and falls on to the nearest bench.  His heart is hammering.

He doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He’s confused. That conversation Shizuo had with his sisters felt like a joke, a broken puzzle.

“Fucking damn it,” he says out loud.

His scalp tingles then with the unmistakable sensation of someone's eyes. He jerks his head up, but it is only a high school girl on her way home from a party, looking at him like he’d propositioned her.

He gives her the most normal and reassuring smile he muster.

“Sorry. Bad day.”

She flashes a relieved, if slightly scared, smile back before scuttling off. He droops again once she’s gone. He needs to forget about Shizuo and get some sleep.

-

The following day, he has no idea what time Shizuo will come, but he imagines it will be late, after he’s done with Tom. It’s just after nine now, but Izaya’s already exhausted. What timing.

After a shower fails to wake him up, he goes upstairs and does something he’s never done before in his life, and gets into bed fully clothed. Just for a few minutes. A small power nap would help. He’s almost settled when the doorbell rings.

" _Goddamnit_."

The he starts to laugh.

_My temper is getting like Shizuo’s, the protozoan is rubbing off on me._

Outside the door, oblivious, Shizuo is hoping Izaya will be in a better mood, preferably well-slept and headache free. One look at the informant however tells him this is not the case.

The pleasing smell of fresh laundry hitshim once Izaya lets him in, and he sees some of Izaya’s clothes on an airer in the corner.It'd domestic, cosy, normal. None of the things he'd normally associate with Izaya.

“I should get you your own key, you’re coming over so much.”

Shizuo moves his eyes back to Izaya. The informant’s eyebrows are raised, waiting.  

“Did you pretend to get me fired?”

This throws him.

“What?”

He clarifies.

“When I was fired, were you covering for someone else who did it, who wanted me out of town? You didn’t actually do it?”

Izaya is frowning.

“How did you know that?”

“So it is true.”

“Which time?”

Shizuo rolls his eyes.

“Unbelievable. How about you tell me which times you were responsible and which times you weren’t?”

“How about you ask your source?” he sneers back. “As if it matters. It’s none of your business.”

“I’d say knowing who got me fired is definitely my business,” Shizuo growls. “Why the hell would you let me think things like that if it’s not true?”

Izaya doesn’t say anything for a minute.

“Reputation is the best form of security,” he says eventually. He shrugs. “I’m in a dangerous job, in a dangerous city. People leave me alone if they think I’m capable of anything.”

Shizuo’s eyes fall to Izaya’s bandaged hands. Izaya narrows his eyes into a glare.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Shizuo has to grit his teeth and count to 5, very slowly, to keep from breaking something. He wants to take the informant and shake him.

“It’s not like I offered,” Izaya goes on. “Someone asked me to take the wrap for it. I just thought, you know, what difference does it make, except I get paid.”

“And someone gets away with it.”

“He left town anyway,” Izaya says dismissively.

Shizuo thinks about what he said.

“Having a reputation never kept you very safe from me.”

“I’m talking about humans. You don’t count.”

This stings more than it used to. Izaya has become much more vitriolic lately, as if making up the balance for Shizuo’s own subdued hate. Shizuo wonders if he's really that mad at him for making him behind with his other work, but it feels like more than that.

“Why do you hate me so much, Izaya?”

Izaya stares at him, wrong-footed.

“I – you – don’t say it like that, Shizuo, like I’m the bad guy, like everything’s my fault. You hate me too.”

“But why are you being like this?”

“Like what? You're the one who's acting weird."

Shizuo doesn’t say anything. He's struggling to understand which parts of Izaya are real.

“Shinra told you,” Izaya muses, after a moment. “About the whole firing thing. I wonder why. He must be mad about something.”

“He’s not.”

Izaya looks sceptical.

“No? Why else would he tell you something like that? It’s not something that just slips out.”

“Maybe he thought it would be a good thing.”

Izaya meets his eyes uneasily.

“Why are you here, Shizuo? Do you feel guilty about the years of abuse?”

“Kind of.”

He attempts a smile.

“Do I get free pass into Ikebukuro then?”

“No.”

Izaya shifts, uncomfortable with the silence.

“Don’t tell anyone, Shizuo.”

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry, I won’t. Jesus. I can’t believe you're worried people will find out you're a better person than they think.”

"I'm not really." Izaya looks away, flexing his fingers experimentally. Still sore. “Did you want anything else?”

It’s half sarcastic, half genuine.

Shizuo says nothing. He wants answers. He wants a real conversation. Sure, it would be far easier to maintain the status quo and not have to rethink everything he’d done to Izaya in a fit of temper, but he needs to know. He looks at Izaya now and he sees someone who’s tired, someone who looks after his sisters and doesn’t care about financial gain. Someone who had helped him despite everything.

He cups Izaya’s face and kisses him.  

“...what are you doing?”

It comes a fraction too late to be genuine.

He backs off like Shizuo is about to hit him. “You’re not thinking straight, Shizuo. I think you're still traumatised by what happened.”

“It was weeks ago, Izaya.”

“Well, you’re very slow.”

“Izaya.” Exasperated, Shizuo grabs him by the shoulders and resists the urge to shake him. “You’re the one who’s fucking slow.”

He kisses him again, harder this time, and Izaya has to grab onto him for balance, at the same time as his mind clears, and some secret part of him sings with relief.

-

For the third morning in a row, Izaya wakes up on Shizuo’s chest. He’d slept all night, falling into a blissful unconsciousness post-sex just like the night before, and the night before that. Shizuo is warm around him, and his mind is clear. It _could_ be some weird, post-trauma effect after what happened with Kasuka, it could be just sex, but he doesn't think so. Shizuo hadn't let go of him in three days.

It occurs to him that they were doing everything backwards, from passive-aggressive loathing at the start of high school, to outright fighting, to now, to sex and sleeping, and what might even be what he'd wanted all along. Maybe.


End file.
